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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761819">(Not) Sight Unseen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Bane/pseuds/Kyra_Bane'>Kyra_Bane</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [The Old Guard] [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Nicolo Doesn't Know What He Wants, Oral Sex, Pre-Relationship, Public Masturbation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 02:34:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26761819</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Bane/pseuds/Kyra_Bane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After thirty years travelling together, Nicolò has resolved to never admit precisely what Yusuf means to him - not even to himself.</p><p>After accidentally stumbling on something he was not supposed to see, he may be confronted with the truth sooner than he thought.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Original Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [The Old Guard] [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930153</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>335</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(Not) Sight Unseen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>my kinktober prompt 1: accidental voyeurism</p><p>enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They have been travelling together for almost thirty years, and in all that time, Nicolò has still not found himself seeking out more intimate company. </p><p>It is not that unusual for him, or all that surprising. He had joined the seminary before the crusade and, even before that, girls and all their mysteries had been of little interest to him.</p><p>For the first twenty years, he and Yusuf – his killer, his enemy, his travel companion, his <i>friend</i> – have more than enough to worry about, anyway. They kill each other, at first. A lot. They come to an unsteady truce. They learn how to communicate with each other and, more importantly, how to do so without immediately coming to blows.</p><p>Even now, when they have been together for almost as long as Nicolò was alive before Yusuf’s scimitar did not succeed in sending him to meet his maker, there is often a barrier between them. Something unspoken, something that one or the other thinks should be apparent.</p><p>Except, Yusuf’s eyes have begun to wander. Nicolò does not mind it, of course. It is normal, healthy, that when a pretty woman smiles at him, he smiles back, the gesture lighting up his face (<i>bright as the sun,</i> Nicolò thinks, one day, and that night he wishes he could go to confession, not for all his other sins, but for that thought alone); that he follows them through the markets with his eyes before turning back to Nicolò with a smile and a shrug.</p><p>Sometimes Nicolò thinks he sees Yusuf look at men that way, as well, but whenever he thinks that, he chastises himself, turns his eyes away, because whatever the complicated feeling that thought elicits (<i>a sin, in both our faiths; will he ever look at me that way; is he looking back; men cannot lie together…</i>), he will have no part in it.</p><p>On this day, this one, fateful day, Nicolò is up with the sun, Yusuf a warm weight against his back. They have shared a bed the last fifteen years, ever since bandits managed to sneak up and kill them in the night and Nicolò had come back to life first, had seen Yusuf, still dead, and his heart had been in his throat. </p><p>It is safer, that way. Nicolò wakes readily and always has a weapon close at hand. </p><p>He always keeps himself between Yusuf and the door and does not examine that urge, either, even if sometimes Yusuf looks at him with soft eyes before they fall asleep.</p><p>He climbs out of bed and by the time he is dressed, Yusuf is rousing, his hair tousled, mouth slack on a yawn.</p><p>“It is early, Nico,” he says. “I thought we had nothing to do today?”</p><p><i>Nico.</i> Nicolò looks away. “We do not,” he says. “But I want to go to the marketplace before it becomes too busy. I might go to the gardens after, if you wish to meet me there.”</p><p>Yusuf hums, still blinking sleep from his eyes and Nicolò smiles. “Either way,” he says, as he straps on his sword. “I will be back before nightfall.”</p><p>“I will see how I feel about the gardens,” Yusuf says. They have been settled in this city for a few months now and Yusuf has taken up sketching in the evenings, or, when they are not working, during the day. He eyes his supplies now and Nicolò nods.</p><p>“I will make sure to bring you back something nice,” he says and Yusuf’s smile, when it turns on him, is radiant.</p><p>“Thank you, habibi,” he says and Nicolò’s heart does not stop because they are friends and it is a perfectly usual term of endearment, he understands.</p><p>He leaves and is only a little disappointed Yusuf did not insist on coming with him.</p><p>***</p><p>Early afternoon and Nicolò gives up. He has bought a handful of supplies they need, even less that he wants, and the gardens are full of people, which means walking around is not as relaxing as he had hoped for upon waking. </p><p>He admits defeat and heads back to the inn they are staying at. Their room is on the ground floor, facing into a courtyard, and Nicolò remains outside for a while. He wonders where they might travel to next, or if they might stay here a while. He thinks of the women in their dreams, that one day they should both go and seek them out.</p><p>He is interrupted by a sound. A groan, from a familiar voice – Yusuf.</p><p>All at once, Nicolò’s stomach twists. He knows what the sound means, of course; just because he never found a girl to lie with does not mean he has never overheard it – even in a Christian war, there were followers, and men who would do as they wished.</p><p>With perspective that the last few years have brought him, Nicolò now knows it to be most of the men.</p><p>He creeps over to their room; it has one window, the glass thick but clear enough to see through. He does not know why he goes, only that he does not consider remaining where he is – he supposes he wants to catch a glimpse of who Yusuf is with, which beautiful woman he has enticed back to their room.</p><p>Nicolò is not at all prepared for what he sees.</p><p>Yusuf is entirely naked – not an unusual sight in and of itself – and sitting on the bed they have not been sleeping in. His head is thrown back and there is a man settled between his legs, cheeks hollowing as he enthusiastically sucks Yusuf’s cock.</p><p>Nicolò’s entire face heats and he ducks below the window. Despite the glass between them, he can still hear the way Yusuf moans and, to his horror, he feels his own cock stir. He presses his face against the wall. </p><p>He should leave. There is no good reason to remain here, to listen to this. </p><p>Instead, he looks again. Yusuf has his hand in the man’s hair, now, pulls him off and up and kisses him, bracketing the man’s waist with his hips and Nicolò has perhaps never been as hard in his life as when Yusuf yanks the man’s head back and bites down his throat.</p><p>The man melts under Yusuf’s attention, clutching at his strong thighs, and Nicolò makes a small noise when Yusuf leans back, urging him into his lap. </p><p>As the man seats himself, holding Yusuf’s cock steady and lowering himself, oh-so-slowly, onto it, Nicolò struggles with the ties at his waistband. He glances around. There is no one here, no one to see him, and he feels <i>terrible,</i> this is so wrong, but also if he does not touch himself <i>right now,</i> he is sure he will die.</p><p>He takes himself in hand as the man settles fully on Yusuf’s lap, and they’re both breathing hard even as the man begins to rock back and forth, Yusuf’s cock sliding out of his ass and then back in again. Nicolò whimpers at the sight. He does his best never to think of this, never to admit to himself <i>what</i> he is, and, too, to never admit what Yusuf means to him, but as much as he is jealous of watching someone else writhe under Yusuf’s attentions, he is also feverish in his desire to be in their place.</p><p>The man rests his head in the crook of Yusuf’s neck, and Yusuf is thrusting up, letting out grunts that must be filling the room, the way Nicolò can hear them, and his own hand is moving quickly over his skin; his release is near but he wants to see Yusuf reach his peak, first.</p><p>Yusuf kisses the man again, and the man comes, throwing his head back as he spills between them. He laughs when it is over, kisses Yusuf firmly on the mouth, and then Yusuf tosses him onto his back on the bed. They’re facing the window as Yusuf slides back in, although neither looks up and Nicolò shrinks back but is still touching himself, still has the overwhelming urge to <i>watch.</i></p><p>Yusuf pushes the man’s legs toward his chest, thrusts in hard and deep, and it is not long before he comes too. Nicolò knows he has never seen anyone so beautiful and he drops to the ground, bites down on his left sleeve, and comes all over his own stomach.</p><p>For a moment he simply lies there, trying to get his breath back, and then the realisation that he is out in the open, the crushing sense of shame, all crash down at once.</p><p>He hurriedly tucks himself back away, picks up his things, and runs out of the courtyard. He takes a seat at a coffeehouse nearby and orders a drink, his words halting not only because of his lack of finesse with the language, but also the memory of what he has just done.</p><p>How can he ever look at Yusuf in the same way again? Not because of what he was doing, Nicolò realises, because even though he thinks it is wrong, he is beginning to understand he does not necessarily have to believe everything he was taught and, besides, these things often do not apply to Yusuf, specifically, in Nicolò’s mind. </p><p>But for what <i>he</i> has done. There is no doubting that it was a violation; he could excuse the first look as being worried for his friend – but after that? Going so far as to touch himself?</p><p>He feels sick.</p><p>His coffee is brought out and he sips at it and he sits there until he sees the man Yusuf just spent a very pleasant afternoon with leave. </p><p>He orders another coffee.</p><p>He could, of course, wait until Yusuf leaves to look for him – which if he remains out for too long, Yusuf will do – and then gather up his things and leave. </p><p>Of course, that is a method that likely works better if both people involved in the situation are not expecting to live, more or less, forever. </p><p>Instead, three coffees later, and just as the sun is beginning to go down, Nicolò drags himself back to their room. Yusuf is sitting at the low table, sketching, and when he looks up and smiles at Nicolò, it is as though nothing between them has irrevocably changed.</p><p>Yusuf does not know that it has. Nicolò definitely feels more general guilt than this – for so much – but, specifically, he is sure Yusuf must be able to read what happened on his face.</p><p>“How was the market?” Yusuf asks. “The gardens?”</p><p>It feels as though he was there days ago. Nicolò shrugs. “Fine,” he says and is so busy trying not to look at Yusuf that he does not see Yusuf’s frown.</p><p>“Is everything alright?” he asks, setting down his paper, now. </p><p>Nicolò nods, passes him the bag from the market. He looks at the bed, thinks, <i>at least he did not do it in ours</i> and then cringes at ‘ours’ because, obviously, he has allowed his imagination to run away with him, while all the time pretending he was not, in fact, imagining anything at all.</p><p>Yusuf is searching through the bag contemplatively, even as Nicolò sits down on their bed and rests his head in his hands. He should just keep his mouth shut, he thinks. And yet…</p><p>He is not used to thinking in such long periods of time, not yet, but it has been almost thirty years already. This secret will out, sooner or later, and at least if Yusuf is moved to anger enough now to leave him, Nicolò will not push him away in a hundred years, a thousand.</p><p>“Did something happen, habibi?” Yusuf asks and his eyes are so <i>soft</i> when he is concerned; Nicolò can barely stand it.</p><p>“I saw you,” he admits, although the words almost get stuck in his throat.</p><p>Yusuf frowns. “You saw me?”</p><p>“With… With the man. Here.”</p><p>“Ah.” Yusuf nods, understanding. He shifts in the chair, so that he and Nicolò are facing each other. “And?”</p><p>And? “And, what?” Nicolò asks because he does <i>not</i> want to admit to what he has done and he had also thought Yusuf would already be angrier than this.</p><p>“And… what are you planning to do about it?”</p><p>“I–” Nicolò feels sick again. “I will not <i>tell</i> anyone, Yusuf, I swear it.”</p><p>“That is not what I meant.” </p><p>Nicolò feels as though he is missing something, something that Yusuf apparently believes to be obvious. Then Yusuf’s eyes flick down, to Nicolò’s tunic, and when Nicolò sees the stain, he prays, momentarily, to be struck down for real.</p><p>He is startled into opening his eyes again when Yusuf sits on the bed next to him. Their knees touch and Yusuf reaches out, wipes a tear from Nicolò’s cheek. </p><p>“Do not worry yourself so much, Nico,” he says and Nicolò cannot read his expression but he knows it is not disgust. “Clean up, now. I will make dinner. And, when you are ready to do something about what you saw, I am here. Always.”</p><p>The intensity of his gaze makes Nicolò flush, tremble, but he makes it to his feet, strips off self-consciously and washes in the corner. Yusuf picks through the bags and puts together a meal. </p><p>It takes but a few days for Nicolò to regain his equilibrium and trust that Yusuf will not simply abandon him for what he did.</p><p>It takes him much, much longer to understand precisely what Yusuf was asking of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26844949">Across the Fire</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyra_Bane/pseuds/Kyra_Bane">Kyra_Bane</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
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